Let me go
by EmmaCorneliaHart
Summary: What if your parents are two sparkling vampires? And your father can read your mind? And you've a fiancé who isn't your type but who loves you more than anything? Renesmee Carlie Cullen knows what it's like. And boy, does it suck.
1. Chapter 1

_Oh _bollocks, I thought, when I heard the familiar sound of Jacob's voice calling through the trees. _How come he always knows how to find me?_

'Nessie! Nessie, wait up!'

I wondered whether there was any point in running. I was quick – one of the few perks of being a dhampyr – but he only had to change into his wolf form to catch up with me. He'd probably think it was a game, a hide and seek, as if I was still only a couple of months old. Mind you, back then he couldn't stay away from me either.

_Stupid dog_, I thought, hoping fiercely my father wasn't anywhere around.

Oh, wait, I'm sorry. I'm being terribly rude – it's what living with people who can read your mind does to you. You forget sometimes people _don't _know everything you think, feel, want, etcetera. Allow me to introduce myself: Renesmee Carlie Cullen. My friends call me 'Carlie', at least they would if I had any. Instead, I'm stuck with my family calling me 'Nessie', because apparently, Renesmee is too difficult a name for them and no one came up with the wonderful idea of calling me by my middle name. No one except me, that is, and the one time I proposed it, I heard: 'But why would you want that? Carlie sounds like Nickelodeon name, Nessie.'

Well, I'd much rather have a Nickelodeon name than a _monster _name! Who calls their loved one 'Nessie'?

My parents, apparently.

And so does my 'lover', although I personally prefer the term 'stalker'. Whenever I mention that to him, he just laughs and pets my head and tells me he loves me so much. Very frustrating.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, my parents. Like I said before, I'm a dhampyr, which basically means I'm a half-human, half- vampire hybrid. My parents, known as Edward and Isabella Cullen, are now both vampires, but I was conceived before my mum was sired. Lucky me.

So, yes, my parents were a sparkling vampire and a mortal girl. That sounds strange, but it gets worse. Aforementioned Jacob Black is a 'werewolf', who imprinted on me before I was born. Now, for those of you who don't know what imprinting means: imprinting is when a werewolf sees a chick and decides, 'I love her' and continued to stay with you for the rest of eternity, filled with happiness, love and joy.

Or, you know, stalkerishness. But since his love for me is so 'real', I'm not allowed to complain. How anyone can not see this as messed-up is beyond me. How is this different from the arranged marriages people always call so old-fashioned? Just because my arranged husband (not married yet. Although it _is _discussed) loves me more than life itself, doesn't mean I have to like him _back_, does it now?

No, it doesn't. In fact, he's not even my type, but does anyone bother to ask me about it?

No.

Everybody just tells me how fortunate I am to have found the love of my life (or rather, existence. I'm not even a living creature, for fuck's sake) before I could even talk! Because it's _great _to know that the boy who is following you, fancied you when you were just an infant! That's not paedophilia, it's true love!

And just when you thought things couldn't get weirder in my life, the sparkling vampire that is my dad can read minds.

And that is every bit as awkward as it sounds.

I mean, I'm a sixteen-year-old girl. I have been for a couple of years now, and with sixteen-year-oldness, there are hormones, even with us dhampyrs. And with hormones come the things my father calls 'naughty thoughts'. He tells me I shouldn't have them about others than Jacob; Jacob might be _hurt _if he found out I thought about others.

So, yes, I'm not even allowed to think what I want. And my father knows I fantasize about Robert Pattinson. A lot. And he doesn't even have the decency to _ignore _it, no, he goes out of his way to tell me that it's not meant to be, because Jacob is the one for me.

Fuckheads. Both of them, I tell you. If your sex fantasies aren't your own, then _what is_? I'm glad my parents are such Mormons that they won't let me have sex before marriage, though; it means Jacob has to wait until he's put a ring on my finger before he can get dirty with me. Problem is that wedding might be closer than I originally thought. At least, I saw mum leafing through bride's magazines and I doubt she and dad are getting married _again_, since last time was only a year ago.

(Yes, my parents remarry once in a while. To each other. Don't ask.)

And now comes the shittiest part of the entire everything that is my life. Because not only do I not fancy Jacob and do I have fantasies about Harry Potter actors, there is someone I _have _got genuine feelings for. That person is my (not-biological) aunt, Alice.

It's awful, because I can't think about it when I'm at home – my father would find out. I can't tell Alice either, because my father would find out. I can't tell anyone else either, because I haven't got any friends; they're all intimidated by my 'big brothers' (like my dad. Don't ask). And even if I _did _tell someone at school, my father would find out in no time.

Thank God for the internet, anonymous chat boxes and laptops. You wouldn't believe how much time I've spent in the woods chatting to strangers about my issues.

It was something I'd been planning on doing today, seeing as for once it was dry in this sodding city of Amsterdam, but that didn't work out, as you can see. Even in the middle of nowhere, Jacob sodding Black still manages to find me.

Bollocks.

I closed all the open programmes. I hoped xxShygirl92xx didn't feel too insulted I'd just quit on her. But although it would be very funny to see how Jacob would react, I felt this might not be the moment to tell him I was planning on ditching him for a girl. When he got… _upset_… he had a habit of exploding into a giant wolf and as Emily Uley showed, you didn't want to be around werewolves when they were angry. It could very well end nastily.

'Nessie, there you are,' he said, suddenly materializing in front of me. Damn, that dog was fast. 'I've been looking all over for you. What are you doing in the woods?' He came to sit next to me on the leafy ground and wrapped a hot arm around me.

'Black, sod off,' I said. For the millionth time I wished he wasn't Jacob Black; what was the point of having a boy by the name Black, with a motorcycle and the ability to turn into a giant dog, if he weren't _Sirius _Black? Why did the Goddess have to give me this lousy equivalent of one of the coolest imaginary people ever?

I'd even settle for a different kind of werewolf. I'd always had a soft spot for Remus Lupin.

And Tonks. Oh, so much for Tonks. But that's probably because she reminds me of Alice so much, with the way she's always happy and optimistic.

Hmm, Alice…

'What are you thinking about?' Jacob murmured.

Another thing about my life: people don't talk. They murmur, they mutter, they whisper, but no one ever says anything in a normal tone. To undo this a bit, I usually shout a lot, but really, someone needs to make up for all that silence.

'Sod off,' I repeated, louder this time. 'I'm doing my homework.'

'Do you want my help?'

'No.'

He grinned. 'Nessie, you're hilarious. C'mon, want to see who gets home first?'

'No.'

His face fell ever so slightly, but he came back with renewed energy almost immediately. 'My sixpack is an eight-pack again! Do you want to see?'

'No.'

'How was school?'

'No.'

'That's not even a "no"-question!'

'No.'

He laughed and kissed me on my cheek. 'This is why I love you so much, you're so funny. I've to go home, sure you don't want to race me?'

'Yes.'

'I could stay, if you wanted me to,' he said, rubbing his hot hand along my arm. 'Would you like me to stay?'

'No.'

'Won't you be lonely here, all on your own?'

'No.' It was a good thing this was something I had got used to; the first times it had been very tiring, but one learnt to block him out entirely.

'If you want me to come, all you have to do is call.'

'Okay.'

'You know, maybe I should stay, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages…'

_Oh GOD_. 'Don't bother, please. I'm sure you've very important things to do at home, I'll see you later.'

He contemplated this for a moment, then nodded and got up. 'I love you, Nessie,' he said.

'Okay.'

'More then life itself.'

'Okay.'

'You're a miracle.'

'Okay.'

And then he left.

Thank God.

* * *

><p><strong>AN **Since I myself can't stand Jacob Black, I was always wondering what Renesmee would think of this 'true love' crap. There might be more chapters; I feel like a short fanfiction about her will keep me warm in these cold times (when 'Say you don't want it' doesn't do the trick). I love hating, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

I seriously considered just staying in the woods all night, until it was time for me to go to school. But then I'd have to explain to my parents why I hadn't come home last night. Also, since it was Holland, chances were that it would start raining and I did not feel like spending my entire night out in the cold until I'd died of pneumonia. Although I'm not sure if I even _could _do that. Maybe I should try?

Nah. Then hell really would break loose.

But I knew I couldn't just go home like that. I needed moral support, something to get me through the crisis that was my life. Something I could always rely on to make me feel better.

In short, I needed booze.

Now, when you're a dhampyr and you live in America, that sucks, something my vampire grandfather didn't think of when he moved there a hundred and fifty years ago. You see, as a vampire, alcohol doesn't affect you; only blood does.

As a dhampyr, alcohol can have _loads _of effects on you. So why is it, then, that dhampyrs, who are in so dire need of alcohol, don't age past _sixteen_? When in the States you can't buy alcohol from the age of _twenty-one_? What god came up with this stupid idea?

But as I said, I live in Holland now, seeing as we need to move once every while to stop people from noticing that we don't age, and hey, Holland is as rainy a country as any other. And not only is it rainy, it's also very liberal. No one would've blinked an eye if mum had had me aborted in _this _country, no sir! All 'live and let live' here; as long as you don't bother your neighbours, you can do whatever you like!

And most importantly, the legal drinking-age is sixteen.

Sure, I can't go into coffee shops yet, but they're only for the tourists, anyway. And I'm intent on making a life here, so I've to stay away from them, before I lose my 'cool, aloof person' status at school. So no drugs, even if I were eighteen. Just alcohol.

And plenty of it.

Not too far from the borders of the forest – well, forest… It's more of a big park – there was an off-licence, where I stopped by to get myself some wine. When I got home, the first thing I smelled was dog. Jacob was still at home, then. After a second, I could hear his familiar laughter, interrupting the sound of a piano being played.

Hoping I could sneak to my room without too much trouble. I climbed the stairs, but I had only got halfway when in the living room, the music stopped.

'She's home!' That was my father. Within half a second, I was surrounded by my parents, Jacob and Jasper, the only person I hated more than Jacob.

'Nessie, where've you been?' asked my mother. 'You could've called us, we were worried.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Mum, it's six o'clock. I'm a half-vampire. Jacob saw me less than an hour ago. Why on earth were you worried?'

She ignored this, eyeing the brown bag in my hand. 'Renesmee, don't tell me that is alcohol in there,' she said.

'Okay.'

'Nessie.' My father shook his head as he murmured my name. 'You know we don't want you to drink. And _don't_ talk that way to your mother,' he added, when I rolled my eyes.

'I wasn't saying anything!'

'No, but you were thinking it.'

See? This is why having a father with mind-reading abilities is awful. If you can't even have angry thoughts, how the fuck are you supposed to –

'Nessie. Don't. And give that bottle here,' he said, holding out his hand.

'No. Sorry dad, but this is Holland we live in. If I want to drink, I'm going to drink. And you know what they say: It's better to drink at home than in a bar where someone will put xtc in my cup, then take me to the loo and force a needle full of heroin on me.' Well, I supposed drinking at home was better. I'd never had heroin. But some free xtc… 'I won't drink it all now.'

'You'd better not. And stay away from the xtc' he muttered. 'Jacob, can you make sure she keeps her word?'

Bloody Nazis.

'I heard that!'

I stalked off, making sure I damaged some of the floorboards on my way to my room. I tried to ignore Jacob, who'd followed me upstairs, and hoped that if I were fast enough, I'd be able to keep him out. But no, with his stupid werewolf speed, he'd already beaten me to my room and was now lying languidly on my bed.

'So, what did you buy?' he asked, looking at the bag hopefully. 'Is it beer?'

He had left some space on the bed for me to sit – he always did that – but I moved to my sofa while I retrieve the bottle. I saw his shoulders slump in disappointment when he saw what I had bought, and couldn't help but feel happy.

'Ah, no beer then?'

'No. Beer is for the proletariat,' I said, opening the bottle; another one of the few perks of dhampyr-being.

'I like beer,' he said.

'Thus proving my point, Black.'

I didn't offer him any wine – he had one proclaimed loudly that he thought it tasted like fancy lemonade and that _real _men drank beer. In my opinion, beer could be made out of piss and I wouldn't taste the difference, but hey, each to his own, right?

Also, I felt I needed everything I could get. Something told me this was going to be a night of mourning what could have been.

You see, I was _dying _for a life goal (no pun intended). But I had to look at the facts here: I would always be sixteen, so eternal youth was already in the pocket. I was a half-vampire, so I was extremely beautiful as well. Nothing to improve there, either. I couldn't go for the capitalistic route, either, seeing as my family already had millions of dollars. And as for the path of intellectual achievement: studying is so much less _satisfying _when you've a photographic memory. What's the point of doing anything for it, when everything comes effortlessly?

So, yes, I was searching for a point in my life, and so far, I hadn't found it yet. I couldn't even go for the cheesy goal of procreation; I had been tested by Carlisle, and I was infertile. (Then again, they'd said the same about my dad and look at me!) So no babies.

Basically, I have everything and I will live forever. This sounds awesome.

But in reality, it's boring.

It's mostly the memory that I hate. As a dhampyr, I can remember everything as clearly as if it had happened only half a second ago. Therefore, there is no need for me to do something again; why would I try the rollercoaster another time if I could recall exactly what it had been like? And with an infinite amount of time on your hands, this becomes a big problem.

My parents fill their spare time with sex; I don't even _want _to know how many kinky things they must've tried to keep off the boredom. The same goes for my aunts and uncles. And yes, I do wonder how Alice can still find sex with Jasper satisfying.

And no, that is not something I think about when I'm in the house. But really, it sucks, knowing the person you love is making love (see! That every expression shows my pain!) to someone else. Someone they've called their 'existence-partners'.

And let's face it: if I don't die, I'll have to live with this for _ever_.

Like I said, immortality isn't all it's professed to be.

Somewhere in the middle of the night – seeing as I don't sleep, I've a _lot _of time to kill – when I was watching the Teleshopping channel and Jacob was sleeping on my bed (why have I got a bed when I don't sleep? I hear you ask. Decoration. In case I ever get any friends. Haha), I heard something outside. The sound of branches breaking.

I decided to ignore it - really, the Ab King Pro was much more interesting – but then suddenly, a small girl with an angelic face came hopping through my window, all pale and with red eyes, a black cloak, etc. She was obviously an Evil Vampire.

'Hello,' I said, muting the television. 'I'm sorry, but who are you?'

'Jane.' She walked over to the bed, to where Jacob was lying. She looked at him for a couple of seconds; then her head shot up and she gazed at me. 'And I'm here to ruin your life.'


	3. Chapter 3

'To ruin your life,' she repeated, looking back at Jacob again. For a second, nothing happened, but then he opened his eyes and shouted out in – shock? Surprise? No, it sounded like pain.

Suddenly I remembered my parents mentioning a certain Jane of the Volturi who was able to torture people with her gaze. They had described her as small, blond, evil-looking… This must be her. Shit! What if she started torturing me as well?

'I'm so sorry, but why are you going to ruin my life?' I said. My voice did not rise above Jacob's screaming, but she heard me anyway and smiled an angelic smile.

'Because I can,' she said. 'Because you are a black mark on the Volturi's record. Because you associate with people – things – like this!' She glared at Jacob and I wondered if the meanness of her look made any difference in the pain you felt. I decided to ask her.

'Er… okay, very sorry about that. I was wondering, this torture-thing you do, does it make any difference whether you look happy or mean?'

She seemed surprised. 'Ah, no, it doesn't, I think. Maybe I should test it.'

'Maybe you should.'

Her brow furrowed. 'I'll test it on your boyfriend, you know,' she said, gesturing at Jacob, who was panting.

I shrugged. 'Be my guest.'

'Nessie – Nessie, get out of here!' Jacob said, looking at me with crazy eyes. 'She's mad, she'll hurt you, make sure you - '

'Jacob, don't worry, I'll be fine,' I said impatiently. 'No, but really Jane – can I call you Jane? – how does it work, this torture-gaze thingy? I suppose there's no way I could learn it?' It would be something new to keep the boredom at bay, at least.

'Why would you want to know something like that?' she spat. 'You're just like the rest of those _half-breeds, _with all your little do-goodery shit. But no more; I will break you!'

She lost a bit of my respect then. Really, what kind of evil overlord speech was that? Then again, she wasn't an actual evil overlord, just an awesome minion, maybe she just had to practice. But back to business. 'I don't think I want to be broken,' I said, while next to me Jacob started screaming again. 'Maybe you should do it to someone else?'

'Someone else?' She raised her eyebrows in what was probably supposed to be an intimidating manner. 'Like your boyfriend, for instance?'

'He's as good as anyone, I suppose.'

At that moment, the door to my room opened and – yes! – Alice came in! She looked from Jane to me to Jacob and seemed to grasp what was going on. 'Jane,' she said, smiling just as angelically as the other girl did, 'How nice to see you again. What has brought you here?'

'This,' she said, gesturing at Jacob and me. 'I'm going to destroy them.'

I raised my hand as if I were in class. 'I thought I'd traded me for Jacob?' I said, hating how uncertain I sounded.

She waved my words away. 'Fine, fine, I'm here to destroy the dog.'

'Oh. Well, that's all right then,' said Alice, when I didn't seem upset. 'But could you please do this outside? I do hate cleaning up the blood afterwards, especially when it smells as disgusting as his.'

'Don't you care for the pup at all?' asked Jane incredulously.

Alice and I exchanged looks. And in that moment, I realized that not only did we not care about the pup; she cared about me. I saw it in the way her amber eyes shone when she looked at me, I saw it in the way she just kept on coming closer to me.

Bingo!

'Nessie, what's going - ' said Jacob, but then Alice and I had grabbed each others hands and jumped out off the window.

Freedom at last!

Four hours later, I came back to pick up the not-entirely-empty bottle of wine. Jane had followed Alice's request and finished Jacob outside; I could smell the familiar odour of a barbecue not too far off. Why anyone would barbecue in this weather was beyond me, but that's the Dutch for you, I suppose. And it was a nice way of recycling and giving back to the earth and all that.

In my room, in contemplated writing a note for my parents, but decided against it. They'd find out soon enough.

* * *

><p><strong>an **So, there. Not the best I've ever written, but it's always bothered me, so really, I had to write _something_. Not sure if I'm posting anything tomorrow, so until then: Happy Saturnalia & Birth of Mithras day, everybody!


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